


Sugar on your lips.

by enigma_scars (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barista Harry, Blow Jobs, Bottom Harry, Boys Kissing, Cheeky Louis, Everyone Is Gay, FUCK, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Happy, How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Late Night Conversations, Late at Night, M/M, Neck Kissing, Pansexual Character, Please Don't Kill Me, Shameless Smut, Tired Harry, Top Louis, biker louis, i dunno, read this maybe?, this wasn't a tag?, wrote this in 3 hours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 16:20:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12257874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/enigma_scars
Summary: This is part of the HLFicExchange2017.my prompt was: "Where Louis rides a motorcycle in aims of picking up girls but he gets sidetracked by a barista in yoga pants."the main theme is THAT, biker louis and cafe person Harry.Hope you enjoy this....-M.





	Sugar on your lips.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [louislonglegs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/louislonglegs/gifts).



> This is part of the HLFicExchange2017.
> 
> my prompt was: "Where Louis rides a motorcycle in aims of picking up girls but he gets sidetracked by a barista in yoga pants." 
> 
> the main theme is THAT, biker louis and cafe person Harry.  
> Hope you enjoy this....
> 
> -M.

_“It’s not the wilted heart that dampens the mood, but the memory of happy rains and fresh flowers, too. It’s not the hearts pleasantries of faces that brightens the mood, but the hearts tiredness of being sad and happy rains and fresh flowers, too. It’s after all a cycle.”_

_-M._

* * *

It’s the first day of summer break, and the first one up from sleep is the one who hardly ever wakes up. The rush in his feet and the singing in his blood is because he finally, finally can buy that bike he has been dreaming about forever. He knows his pay-check cleared in last night, and the shop opens at exactly 11AM.

Louis rushes out of his two bedrooms apartment, shared with his best mate. Louis walks into the en suite to freshen up for the day.  He walks out pours himself a bowl of cereal and munches on it, phone in hand. Louis knows Zayn won’t be awake for the entirety of the day; he was out skateboarding and doing random bullshit all night, didn’t come in till five in the night, crashing into the hallway jukebox.

Louis pays no heed to him and his loud snores as he leaves the flat.

At the Ducati showroom, in Central London, Louis goes over all the paperwork, for his choice of bike. He gets a 1000 Euro voucher and redeems it and gets a couple of offers and discounts as well.

Within an hour he is the newest owner of a Ducati Multistrada 950, and he is gleaming with pride.

In all honesty he could have asked his Mum to buy him this bike for his birthday, she would have, but he is not an ungrateful brat. Well, maybe he is a brat; at least he is not ungrateful. Born to the owner of Sterling Corps, and the world-famous author of The Mysteries of Skies and Sun, a renowned astrology book, Louis was born with a silver spoon in mouth.

He was bred in royalty, treated like the king of the world. With no other heir than him, Louis was soon to become the next CEO of Sterling Corps. But with everything handed to him on a silver platter, he still wasn’t a lazy, arrogant, unworthy asshole. He was a genuinely sweet person, with a kind heart and a strong will to work for what he wants.

He was in his last year of business management, and stayed away from his lavish lifestyle by mingling amongst other college students who were broke, he in fact stayed with one. He worked at his father’s alma mater at Queen Mary’s Business school as an assistant to one of the teachers. His father still insisted on putting money in his bank account every month, a few thousands wouldn’t bother anybody. It helped him pay the rent, food bill, etc., etc.

Louis drove back to his apartment and this time when he went upstairs, he took a genuinely nice shower, shaved and stuff. Shampooed and conditioned his hair, which had gotten long and needed a trim, and he shaved slightly to look more civil and less Neanderthal. He takes Zayn for a spin around the city, the bike being smothered with love from both rowdy men. They bring take out and get back to the flat and play videogames while eating food.

At six in the evening Zayn gets a call regarding his evening plans and takes off to do the needed before leaving. Louis and Zayn shuffle around the 12th floor flat, putting on the lights and munching on random snacks and talking about plans for the night. Louis says he wanted to go to a club; Zayn dismissed him saying how he can go and sweat through the crowd of summer’s first day, while he was off doing better things.

He wears all black attire. He took out the expensive black leather jacket he bought for this occasion specifically. He even brought out the Chanel boots his mum gifted him, black, and leather and studded. After he dresses up, he sees that Zayn’s already left for wherever he was needed. He takes his new bike’s keys and the helmet too. He leaves to go to a club at eight in the evening, looking hot and rich and sexy, yes, he ogled at his own bum before he left.

~~~~~~~

Harry takes the night shift at his book cafe around the corner of St. Peter’s street. It’s a cafe that works 24/7 and had quality ambience and environment. It was the kind of place where one could read books after dusk and till the morning came around, get a tea of coffee for whenever or whichever hour of the day, and soft music always playing in the background. It was a pleasant experience in all.

It’s a shift from 9 at night to 5 in the morning, all he has to do is sit on a stool behind the bar and look out for customers who want a refill or something else and check the music volume and see if someone steals a book. It’s simple. Sit in his cafe, and watch people in the dead of the night. Harry can do lots of things sitting there in the silent cafe.

The only thing actually bothering Harry is that at seven in the evening, he cannot find a decent pair of pants. He dives into his laundry tub and sees all three pairs of his black skinny jeans in the wash. He lets out an infuriated sigh and immediately calls up the building’s maintenance man, “Robert, it’s been three fucking weeks, when is my washing machine getting fixed. I am yet to do the laundry.”

“Kiddo, I will get it done on Saturday, kay?” The man on the other side answers lazily.

“This. Saturday.” Harry hisses into the phone.

“Yeah, sure.” The man says before hanging up.

Harry, desperate, desolate, Harry calls up his sister, his well to do sister, who works as an Editor at Finn and Cycles. While Harry dropped out of regular college due to lack of financial stability, his sister was making thousands of dollars over one book review. “Hey, Gemma. It’s, uh, it’s me. Are you home right now?”

“Yes, Harry, what happened, baby bro?” Gemma says coolly.

“I am in desperate need of some pants that are not sweats. And I know your size fits me. Please, I beg you to lend me an old pair of jeans or whatever.” Harry says, pinching the bridge of his nose, annoyed at his situation.

“I will make sure to bring it up to yours. I wanted to just...  Are you alright?” Gemma asks, worried.

“I am fine.” Harry snidely says.

“I was just worried. You know how you tend to get. Over thinking, stuck in a rut, not having enough motivation. Do you want me to call mum?” Gemma suggests.

“No. Thanks for showing your support but you no longer need to bring me the pants. I will see what I can do. Bye.” Harry says, hanging up almost immediately.

Harry knew his current situation was fucked up. His phone rang thrice before the caller decided it was useless calling any more. Harry shuffles into his room and looks around in his limited wardrobe regarding what would be appropriate for his night shift.

He finds a slightly new pair of yoga pants Gemma bought him in March. He decides that this is better than nothing. He sees he has only half an hour to reach St. Peter’s, he immediately combs his hair and grabs his wallet, jacket, his side-bag and keys before leaving. Harry owns a bicycle and has to ride through the traffic to reach there.

He reaches his destination just in time for the last shift to leave. He is thankful to the one above. He changes into a work t-shirt and an apron. He greets a couple of people who come in for a coffee or snacks. There is another person who works till 10:30, and then he is alone.

~~~~~

Louis rides his bike to the club and is immediately met with the sight of a big queue. But, a queue filled with hot chicks and guys. He swears he spots a couple of his classmates, probably ones he wants to avoid. He stands next to his bike, helmet in hand, tugging on his jacket with the other. He stays standing till a couple of girls walk by him and turn around to see the hot biker boy. He winks at the two girls and the girls giggle before walking off. He stays right there, knowing he will catch the attention of someone to take them home.

Louis stays there right outside the club for not more than five minutes before he is getting inside through the VIP line and some people in the queue groan and screech at how unfair they were being. Louis pays no heed and heads inside and straight to the bar to get himself a drink, a couple of drinks probably.

The next two to three hours are a haze of drinks, smokes, dancing and a blowie in the bathroom. Louis gets bored easily, not drunk enough or maybe too classy for these people who behave absent-minded and shallow for attention and conformity. He glances towards his watch around midnight and instantly feels the urge to just get out of here.

He does, Louis cares about the feelings of the person back at the club that gave him the blowie, but he really doesn’t want to think of them, ever again. He gets out of the fake smog and drunken smell of the overcrowded club.

Louis has a headache and he really just wants a good coffee, or perhaps a tea. A tea is always good. But it’s almost one in the morning and he doesn’t really think that there is a cafe or diner open at this hour. He boards the bike and drives towards his flat. Dejectedly waiting at the empty traffic light.

Just his luck, he glances to his right and on the street he finds a shop window with light still twinkling and neon banner saying “24/7 Cafe.” He sees no one at the intersection and turns swiftly for the shop. The Ducati makes a speeding noise when it moves, the tires screeching and engine roaring. The empty and almost dark street burns to life with the noises.

The person from inside the shop walks out and whisper yells in the silent street. “Are you fucking kidding me? I will have my shop evicted if you make sounds like that while parking. Stop the noise if you want to have a coffee.” Louis removes his helmet and stares at the dishevelled beauty in front of him. Taller and buffer than him, with a square jaw and really nice lips. Even his nose was hot looking. The guy with long hair and the shiny blue shirt turns around and walks in and Louis can’t help but whistle at the sight. Ass looking like a piece of fresh-made buns, round and fucking hot. Was this guy seriously wearing yoga pants?

The answer was yes, the guy with awful clothes had made the bold fashion statement by wearing yoga-pants, black, tight, ass-showing yoga pants. Louis whistles loud and clear, making the man turn around.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” The guy snarls.

“No, I am actually-“ Louis never got to complete his statement.

“No, first you come in here with that awful, expensive Ducati bike screeching like a rooster, than you have the audacity to wolf-whistle and cat call. Are you trying to make me murder someone in the cold night? Believe me I won’t hesitate.” The man says.

Louis laughs at the hilarious way the man’s hair started blowing with the wind that swept over them, rain was around the corner.

“I am sorry, what do you find hilarious here?” The man asks, walking inside.

Louis follows behind and smiles at the man. The man muttering things as he goes back behind the bar, and Louis closes the door behind him. The small bell at the top ringing. The cafe is spacious and beautiful. It has multi-coloured walls and paintings in reasonable lengths. The menu is stuck near to the entrance wall and the payment counter. There were seats along the glassed wall of the cafe, right opposite to the breakfast bar. In the front corner there was a display case, showing everything n the menu. He sees that there are none of the sandwiches, mentioned in the menu, inside the case. So his first instinct is to order one of those. “Can I get a turkey and coleslaw sandwich?”

“Anything else?” The man says, less irritated now.

“A Yorkshire, no sugar, a splash of milk.” Louis answers, smiling wide.

“That’s three and fifty nine.” The man says.

“Are you going to make it fresh?” Louis blurts as the man starts counting the money Louis paid.

“Do I serve you nothing then? Yes, of course I am going to make them fresh. I know how to cook.” The man mutters as he guides Louis to one of the sofas and Louis sees that there is selection of books in the room that is on the right to the wall diagonal to his seat. He looks at the server pointedly, the man sighs and gestures him to go.

Louis gets up, and happily jumps up to where he could see that all the books are kept in chronological manner. Alphabetically correctly. There was also a log book at the beginning where people had written which book was read by whom and when. It was amazing how in such a small cafe, there was such efficiency, it blew his mind.

He sees that there is a small window to the kitchen and that there are no people in here at the time, only the man with long curly hair, making a sandwich and tea for the customer, Louis.

Louis stands there, enthralled b his beauty, grumpy beauty. It made his head spin, why was this man so angry?

“Why are you so angry?”

“Pardon?”

“Why are you so angry, I asked.”

“Well, I am not, just a bit upset, not much sales today, like as per usual it was okay, but I expected people to actually buy more on the first day of summer break. Made quite the profit last year, but this year, doomed. Doomed is right, I am doomed.” The man says as he removes a fresh plate, putting the properly cut pieces of Louis’ sandwich on a plate.

Louis goes and sits back where his helmet and jacket lay. He sees the man come back and asks, “What is your name?”

“Harry, Harry Styles.” The man, Harry, replies curtly.

“Have a seat, Harold. Let’s have a chat over chai.” Louis attempts to joke.

“That. Is. Not. Chai. You uncultured swine. That is a Yorkshire brewed with lavender and honey, one of my oldest recipes.”Harry enunciates.

“Sorry, I know it’s not chai. Just trying to loosen the air, break the ice, and all.”

“You are awful, and ice-breakers, really? What, are we in high school?” Harry laughs, a genuine loud laugh.

“Hey that got a beautiful laugh out of you, didn’t it?” Louis says, pointing at Harry.

“Hey, just going to be unashamedly honest here, if you are not gay, don’t flirt with me.” Harry says, quietening up.

“I am Pan.” Louis blurts by mistake.

“Peter Pan.” Harry deadpans.

Louis snorts and laughs so hard, his hand around the mug of tea, shakes the entire table.

“Now we are telling jokes are we?” Louis asks once his laughter stops.

“It was good, though, wasn’t it?” Harry asks.

“Good enough to make me apologize for wrongly ogling at your beautiful arse in those tight pants.” Louis comments.

“You were ogling at my arse? It’s just my bad day isn’t it? Had all my jeans in the wash, this was like a last resort. How about you biker boy, how long have you been riding that Ducati Multistrada 950?” Harry asks, glancing outside towards the bike standing in all its red glory.

“Just today. Bought it today and honestly thought could get someone home with me, it’s more show off than anything, to be honest.” Louis accepts.

“Hmm, seems like quiet the ride. I drive a Hamilton British Bicycle.” Harry says, with a snort of laughter following afterwards.

“I knew you had such amazing thighs for a reason.”Louis quips in.

“You seriously need to stop the unhealthy obsession over one glance of these legs. They really aren’t all that very good.” Harry mutters.

“Won’t mind getting a review to make sure they are perfectly obsession worthy or not. Strut along now, Harold. Let me see.” Louis says, teasing.

“Hey, you just go on enjoy your tea, and that sandwich. I am going to go back behind the bar and behave like I wasn’t just creeped out.” Harry says, smiling, but getting up.

Louis sips his tea as he ogles at how Harry’s bum jiggled with each step, his bum looking really really gorgeous. But then the worst thing happens, he trips. Louis sputters out the tea laughing loudly, snorting before saying, “They really are useless, aren’t they?” He gets up from his seat, going over to help the man.

Harry mutters about just how useless they are, fucken giraffe feet, as he allows Louis to help him up. Harry asks if Louis wants a refill after that, and Louis says, “Sure, Bambi.”

Harry might just let his finger slip around the sugar.

After that, they just talk, the air holding little tension and awkwardness, mostly on Harry’s part, Louis stayed enthralled. But there was a question in his head, hanging around quiet ahead and loud.

“How old are you? Are you the owner?”

“I am 22, and yes, I am the owner. I used to be a barista before. But my gran left me this place in her will. Now it’s entirely mine, so I run it my way. Used to be just a bakery, turned it into a 24/7 book cafe, runs good, profits are really good, but sometimes, this place can get really into the dumps, like when it’s college season, students hound this place, day-in, day-out. Otherwise, it’s just like this, barren and boring. I do most of the baking, but I have a couple of other chef’s who work in two different shifts and eight servers who come in a eight hour gap, working only in the early morning to 10:30 at night. Later, right from 9 in the evening, I work here. Some days, I even come in at midday, checking the sales, getting in the stuff. It’s what, 2:30 now, right? The morning groceries and other stuff comes in at 4. If you want to hang around that long and check out how I work and all that, you are free to stay.”Harry suggests.

“Cool. How many books do you have in the back?” Louis asks, curious.

“I have the entire Enid Blyton and Agatha Christie Collections. I have the entire Sherlock Collection, the Harry Potter books, there might also be a part where there is a collection of only adult books, which I accidentally discovered. I have table mags in the stand, and classics, from Mark Twain to Shakespeare and Charles Dickens to Rabindranath Tagore’s translated copies. If you don’t know who that is, we cannot be friends.” Harry says with a straight face.

“Well, of course I know him. I am not a complete arsehat. I do in fact know some Indian history.”  Louis says, laughing.

~~~~~

It takes an hour long discussion on history and three refills of coffee and tea for them to come to the conclusion that yes, Louis does in fact know certain things about history. Harry was about to make a snide comment about how being born rich and privileged does not determine one’s knowledge, when his alarm alerts him of the arrival of the first stock of the morning produce. He turns the door sign to closed, switching the front lights off, and he drags Louis towards the back of the cafe, and out into the alleyway. They wait for a couple of minutes when the opposite block’s bread makers open the store’s back in order to sift sugar and wheat. Harry stands there, a small light shining on his face, his hair bouncing on his neck, and the sifts particles blowing on his face, Louis just stares at how beautiful this boy looks.

The trance is broken by the honk of a tempo-truck that backs into the alley, covering the lights from earlier and shining the harsh backlights on to their faces.

“Morning Liam, how is today’s produce? Hopefully you brought me the best chocolates and the freshest meats. I expect the best sifted fresh flour too. I pay you fifty extra just for that. Liam meet Louis, Louis meet my best produce supplier, Liam. He comes all the way from Dartford, Watts Farmer’s the best producers of all.” Harry smiles proudly.

“Hello. Chuck, get out the crates, here on the platform and this trolley. I will get the check-list and the bills.” Liam says.

The bakers from across the alley, yell around in Swedish, confusion clear on their faces. Harry chuckles at their everyday routine, causing Louis to beam at his soft sounds. Louis was beyond attracted. Chuck the man who was driving the truck, steps out and gets to drawing out the crates and placing them on their designated spots. The stuff wasn’t a lot, but enough to run the cafe.

Louis watches as the bread bakers argue amongst themselves, sifting loads of sugar and watches how it flies like dust in the light shining from the truck’s back. He watches as it settles on the ground and on to Harry, making him a pure delight.

Louis watches as Harry finally sends Liam off on his way for further orders and turns to look at Louis. They take all the stuff in the kitchen and when all the stuff is brought and done, Louis pushes Harry to the nearest wall.

“If it were for me, I would kiss the sugar off your lips. Taste just how nice it feels on you.” Louis says, humming, and eyes blown with primary lust.

“No one is stopping you, rider.” Harry chuckles softly, the indents of his smile, leading to dimples and the way his lips pouted and the unsettling curve of his cupid’s bow, Louis was struck.

He leans forward, standing on his tip-toes to, eyes shut and lips parted. Harry does the same, bending down, eyes shut and lips parting, they meet right in the middle for the softest magnetic collision. It was so soft and so slow, it was the sensual kiss of running time and flowing sands. It was the vacuum in space and the gravity of earth. It was the depths of oceans and abundance of oxygen. It was life and love.

They kiss softly, with hands on the other’s face, touching so softly, like the electricity flowing could shock the other. It was the lightening of the summer skies rain. The lightening above seared through the sky, breaking them apart.

“What time do you get out?” Louis ask, panting softly.

“In about five.” Harry answers, dazedly, eyes still shut.

There is a knock on the other side of the door, startling Harry, he calls back a, “Who is it?”

To which he gets a shrill Irish voice’s reply, “It’s me, I am here to get the first batch ready, and Charlie is coming in half hour. You go home now, Harry. I checked the stock list, all the stuff is there. If you want to come back in the afternoon, it’s alright, otherwise, get some sleep. Okay? Do you want tea?”

“Sure, Niall. But no, I don’t want tea. I am having a drink before sleeping.” Harry says, eyeing Louis carefully , to which Louis blushes wildly.

“I am coming upfront, Niall. Turn on the lights would you?” Harry instructs ‘Niall’, as he guides Louis out the alleyway and on the curb outside. He hands Louis his jacket and his helmet from inside, before quickly grabbing his coat and keys. He hollers a goodbye, and leaves outside.

Louis was already on his Ducati, waiting for Harry to climb on. “You getting on? Back to my place?” Louis asks, hopefully.

“On that monster? Sure, do you have a spare helmet?” Harry asks, suspiciously.

“Nope, but here take mine, it’s still too early for traffic police to chase us.” Louis says, handing his own helmet to Harry. Harry wears it before sitting behind Louis on the bike and holding onto the back handle.

Louis notices and revs the bike before speeding down and turning sharply at the corner.  
Harry loudly squeals as his hands go up to Louis’ chest, holding on tightly.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, I am going to die.” Harry chants as he holds onto Louis tightly.

Louis only chuckles as he speeds down the road and immediately to his own apartment. Within fifteen minutes, they stop outside the building and Louis asks Harry to wait right there as  he parked it behind in the parking lot. Louis jogs back to Harry, and finds him eyeing the building curiously.

“You stay on which floor?” Harry asks.

“Twelfth.” Louis says as he holds Harry’s hand and leads him towards the elevators.

Louis sees that the entire reception area is empty except for the security guard and the night manager. He sees the bundles of newspapers and milk cartons spread out in the front, and hopes no one is aboard the elevator.

Seeing his hopes became reality, he pushes Harry to the elevator wall after clicking the proper button. He licks into Harry’s surprised mouth, and immediately gets a reaction out of him. Harry hums into the kiss, slowly sucking on Louis’ tongue. Louis pushed harder as he gripped his waits and slid his hand down to cup his bum cheek.

Harry does the same, his long hands easily slithering behind Louis and cupping his rear carefully. Louis moans as his bum is kneaded through the thick material of the jeans. They jump apart when the lift dings reminding them of their surroundings. Louis pulls Harry out of the lift and into the hallways, his hand still on his waist, hand stuck inside his shirt, feeling the supple softness of his skin.

Harry bites his bottom lip at the feeling of Louis’ fingers rubbing small circles in his waist, wanting to get more skin on skin touches. Louis sees that Zayn is not back yet and opens the flat’s door open, leading Harry directly to his own room. He grabs two water bottles from the fridge and lays the down next to his bed. He watches around the room and sees the sky turning violet from his window.

He notices how Harry’s shoes were lying on the carpet, his jacket thrown across the couch. Harry pushed Louis on the bed and straddled his hips, as he leaned down to suck a mark in his neck. Louis moans at the feeling of soft plump lips kneading and sucking into his neck. His jacket was ripped off him and thrown across the room, his shirt following through.

“You are such a bad boy, Louis. Leather jackets, bikes and tattoos. I am oddly turned on.” Harry basically purrs.

“Your innocence turns me on, baby.” Louis moans out as Harry leans down to suck bruises on his chest. Harry gets back up to throw his shirt across the room, his hands going to unbuckle Louis’ pants. He unbuckles it carefully, before stripping him off and throwing them next to the pile of clothes they collected.

Harry stumbles out of bed aggressively pulling his pants off before pushing Louis onto the mattress and mumbling, "I am going to suck you off like never before. You are going to be blessed even without going to church." Louis' body is hanging waist down off the bed and Harry is looking at him with hooded, lustful, blown eyes, before he is thumbing Louis’ slit, a little pre-come dribbles out and Harry spreads it onto Louis' dick, before kissing Louis' cock and then he starts off by giving him a few pumps before tugging his balls harshly, giving the head a few kitten licks all the while looking up at Louis who is slowly falling apart.

Slowly, Harry takes Louis into his mouth, a little bit at a time and then he is jerking him off where his plump lips can't reach. He starts bobbing his head, in a steady rhythm of up, down, up, down, while his tongue rolls on from his underside to the tops, licking over the vein that's popping there, and by the way Louis moans, Harry feels satiated. Harry starts bobbing his head at a dangerous speed and Louis' whining increases ×10 Louis tugs at Harry's hair and Harry pushes his limits and he can feel the tip of Louis dick go down his throat and he lets him, his nose touching Louis' pubes. He breathes in through his nose, taking in Louis' smell, and then the grunts forming in his mouth rumble through Louis, leading him to his orgasm. He looks down at Harry who is looking at Louis like he is a god, staring with wide eyes, so much devotion, and two more thrusts and then Louis screams, "Ah, Harry. I am going to come. Swallow." And as he shoots his load down Harry's throat, Harry swallows every single bit of it, even when a little come dribbles out if the corners of his mouth that is already covered in spit, his face is glistening, eyes holding glassy tears.

Louis pulls Harry to his chest and kisses him like his life depended in it. "Hmmm, baby. I can taste myself on you. Taste so good baby. Taste like me, Harry.”

"I am going to open you nice and slow with my fingers and tongue. Lie on your stomach, ass in the air, baby." Louis says, slowly kneading the soft flesh.

But before all that, Louis lays Harry down, licking his neck and chest, tasting the sugar from earlier and just the taste of Harry on his tongue. He sucks bruises on his chest, kissing each purple spot with love afterwards.

He whines when he hears Louis hum at the sight, not doing anything to relieve him, and his hard-on was hurting painfully. Louis kneels down and licks a fat stripe across Harry's arsehole, making Harry moan. Louis prods his lubed index finger inside Harry and Harry bites on a pillow to suppress his moans. "More, Louis. Please, more." Louis pokes his tongue into his hole and prods two fingers knuckle deep inside Harry and all Harry can think of is how wonderful of a job, Louis is doing. He clenches around the stretch of Louis' fingers and tongue. Louis says, "I am going to add another finger baby, you have to relax and stop squirming. Okay?" Harry nods.

Louis smacks Harry's left ass cheek, making Harry groan and push back on Louis' fingers, fucking himself. The sight entices Louis and he smacks the other cheek before kneading it and saying, "So needy, baby. So needy." Louis slips in another finger and thrusts them at an unforgiving pace, making Harry moan filthily. Louis basks in the feeling of Harry's warmth around his fingers and tongue, soon he adds another finger and the moans from Harry are pornographic and Louis is almost near to another orgasm by hearing them, and he suddenly realizes that he hasn't even touched himself, completely ignoring his needs only to satisfy Harry completely, he can satisfy himself later, right now Harry is more important.

With his free hand he jerks Harry off, and Harry pushes his hips into Louis' touch, groaning at the sudden friction and Louis has set the rhythm insanely perfectly, in-down, out-up, and his rhythm and speed is making Harry see stars, "Uh, Louis 'm so close. Can I come? Please."

“Come for me." Louis coaxes, never once skipping a beat or rhythm of his thrusts and jerks. Harry comes, white ropes covering his chest and the duvet under him. Louis kisses his left cheek, dragging his tongue all the way from his crack, to his hips and towards his neck before rolling Harry over and kissing him softly, his hard on rubbing across Harry's semi. Louis groans into the kiss, biting Harry's bottom lip, pulling it further and then thrusts his tongue in the younger's mouth, Harry moans and licks into Louis' mouth, revelling in the attention he is being smothered with. Louis pulls back and pushes Harry by his chest, getting up and Harry frowns at the sudden lack of proximity.

"You completely knackered today?" Louis asks in hopes of having Harry tired but, "No, I still want you. I am open and loose and wet and very much in pain unless you change it into pleasure." Harry grumbles against Louis' chest.

Louis laughs and it vibrates through Harry, who says, "Come on old man. Imma ride you tonight. You can be a lazy arse and keep lying." And okay, that sounds perfectly awesome to Louis, "Okay baby."

Harry smiles innocently, dimples and all, eyes all hazy and glassy, lips red and glossy and swollen, body covered with hickeys, too many. He lubes Louis' condom clad cock, hands pressing on his undersides, playing with his balls, sucking at them making Louis groan from the excess pleasure, the heat coiling up in his stomach. Louis watches with hooded eyes as Harry slowly hovers over his dick, hand guiding Louis' length to his clenching hole and slowly setting in, slowly slipping down. Louis groans at the feeling of his tip and only his tip being inside the warmth of Harry's hole. And Harry moans at the feeling of Louis slowly entering his rim, his head feeling engorged and the sudden invasion welcomed. Harry clenches around his tip, slowly pulling him in, swallowing him and they maintain eye-contact all the while doing this, making it much more erotic, personal and heartfelt. Hooded eyes stared back at them both, while Harry pushed down on Louis, quickly bottoming out and moaning sinfully.

Louis lets Harry adjust to his girth, and just pleasantly hums as Harry slowly picks himself up, and sits down just as quickly, groaning at the feeling of being full, Louis just lays there, hands loosely around Harry's waist, as Harry jumps on his cock, his own leaking precome. It’s been a while since he has done anything remotely sexual, so it’s a bit difficult, but then he is moving his hips in figure eights while dropping down and stilling once and then he drops again, moaning at the new angle and his thighs quiver violently as he keeps up the rhythm he has fallen into, but Louis can see how tired Harry has become.

Like the gentleman he is, he flips them around, and he brushed across Harry's prostate making Harry squeak with wonder and glee, Louis keeps the pace, hands on Harry's thighs, spreading them up, pushing them on his chest while he plunges into Harry making him scream his name out and loud, so loud he thinks his neighbours might just knock to ask for domestic violence.

But this is an assault, an assault of pleasure to Harry as Louis just keeps punching his prostrate with every thrust and Harry's legs go across Louis hips, crossing behind, pulling him closer, his, up until now, limp hands moving to his hair pulling him in for a kiss that is just teeth and tongue, too much in time with speed and rhythm and Louis has gone animalistic with his pace, slow, violent growls leaving his mouth.

Louis can only think 'HarryHarryHarry'.

While, all Harry can think is 'LouisLouisLouis'.

And with a shout of Louis' name Harry comes untouched. And Louis follows suit only he muffles his shout by biting Harry's shoulder and Harry is groaning loudly as Louis rides off his high still fucking Harry violently, his thrusts sloppy but puncturing. And Harry is definitely crying because of this orgasm and he is slightly over stimulated as Louis is still going at it, and then he just drops on top of Harry, cock leaking but still inside Harry's warm hole.

Louis kisses Harry softly as he pulls out, both wincing at the contact.  Louis throws the condom away and kisses him softly again.

“Stay, stay till you don’t have to go. Stay till you want to. Just stay.” Louis asks Harry.

Harry is too tired to answer and just says, “Little spoon.”

Louis softly chuckles as he hugs Harry, kissing his head full of curls till they both fall asleep to the sound of the early-morning traffic and the rising sun’s rays.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Leave feedback and kudos.
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> Thank you!
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> [rebloggable fic post ](https://enigmaticficlarrie.tumblr.com/post/166012549984/mystery-work)


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